


Cherry constelations

by dulciscoeur



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't Judge Me, Eggplant Emoji, F/F, Kinda, Light BDSM, Lou topping Debbie, Smut, Spanking, Strap-On, Topping from the Bottom, Toys, hot hot stuff, i guess, leather belt, loubbie, porn without much of a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 00:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15961112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulciscoeur/pseuds/dulciscoeur
Summary: Improvisation is always fun, or: there is, turns out, another use for that snakeskin leather belt Lou owns, OR: I’m just giving the gays what they want.





	Cherry constelations

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Set mid-heist planning. AU-ish.
> 
> This right here’s what inspired this piece: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DfYbHblWsAEb2gj.jpg

Debbie’s always found it erotic watching Lou undress— the way she bends to take off her ankle boots, the movement making the stretchy material of her leather pants seem like it’s painted on the roundness of her ass. She unbuttons her vest with skilled fingers, those same fingers then fumbling to loosen the knot of her tie, pulling it off, revealing a love bite that’s been hiding behind it, only few hours old. Debbie particularly loves watching the muscles of her back stretch when she removes the vest, absolutely loves it when she takes off the many necklaces she wears, each of them dangling across her bare breasts, goosebumps appearing on her skin when they touch her nipples lightly. And then her rings. Oh, the rings. She knows Lou is not doing it deliberately, but so very slowly, so very carefully, she twists and pulls and twists and pulls, one by one, and with every clink of the jewelry against the hardwood of the dresser, Debbie feels her breath hitch. There’s quiet anticipation stirring low in her belly, warmness spreading all over her chest by the time her hands are bare at last.

Outside, the night is quiet, the moonlight through the window casting a blueish shadow over her skin, making her appear... handsome, in a dark, sultry kind of way. Simultaneously, the golden light coming from the bathroom behind her and the lamp on the bedside table warms her complexion and casts shadows on all the right places. _Perfect._

When Lou turns to her, hands at her belt, the full moon picks out gleaming highlights in her grey eyes. She tilts her head, gives her that lopsided grin of hers to let her know she’s caught her staring and that she’s pleased, thank you very much. Debbie’s disturbed by how attractive she finds Lou’s smugness.

She looks away for a second to grab the air conditioner remote.

“Am I making you hot?” Lou mocks, accented voice a husky purr.

The room fills with the soft noise of the air conditioner running and Lou’s presence. Debbie’s mouth quirks but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she focuses on the slim fingers working the buckle, acutely aware of Lou’s eyes on her.

Finally standing up, Debbie closes the distance between them and replaces Lou’s hands with hers.

“I like this belt,” she says, not really knowing why.

She’s seen Lou putting it on that morning after they showered together, felt it deliciously pressing against her whenever Lou, as usual, stood too close to her throughout the day. Well, maybe that’s why.

“This?” Lou laughs and looks down at herself, surprised. Debbie hums in response. “Thanks. I stole it.”

Debbie rolls her eyes at that. _Of_ course _she did._

She unfastens the belt slowly and tugs it free from the loops, testing the material on her palm. It’s not that wide, but the black leather is thick and deliciously heavy, built to last. Fingertips brush over the smooth velvety inner part, the snake pattern on the other side subtly shining where the light hits as she bends it in half, slightly rough edges scratching her. Its scent, rich and earthy, suits Lou perfectly. Curious, she takes a swing. It lands harder than she intended against her left palm, loud thud echoing in her hears. Nerve endings immediately seem to complain where the belt hit, prickling, making her entire body vibrate.

“I really like this belt,” she repeats, this time gaze locked on Lou’s, eyes very bright, glancing meaningfully.

Debbie hears Lou’s intake of breath hitch in her throat, her usually clear eyes becoming dark in realization, pupils dilated. She’s quiet for so long that Debbie thinks she won’t get the answer she was expecting. Her voice burns up the silence when she speaks.

“ _Debs_ ,” in a low, warning tone.

Debbie considers the constellations Lou’s faint freckles form on the fairness of her nose and cheeks, reads in her blue eyes the way curiosity and excitement overtake questions and fears, just like when they plan a con. Lou’s incredibly bold, this Debbie knows for sure. She loves the thrill of the unknown, of pushing to the limits.

Impatience blends with amusement. “I saw you eyeing that whip at the sex shop the other day. Don’t say you never thought of spanking me?”

Debbie knows how to read her, has known from the day they met and she also knows that it goes the other way around. It made her stomach churn at the beginning, but at times like these, she appreciates the fact that they can’t hide anything from each other. She knows her truth, how much she likes to truly, fully take control every now and then— and how much she enjoys doing so, especially if it involves Debbie and a bed. Frankly, the only thing she’s not sure of is exactly the extent of Lou’s interest for dominance. Luckily, Debbie’s always been keen on learning new things.

“The thought did cross my mind,” Lou breathes, her voice taking on a very distinct edge— darker, raspier, even for her.

Oh, she knows.

Debbie wraps one arm around Lou’s neck to kiss her. The starter place Lou’s throat, her lips like the piece of a gameboard traveling up her neck to her mouth, where she lingers for a second to enjoy the sparks picking up and spiraling between her thighs, only to move to the shell of Lou’s ear a beat later.

“I’ve been a very bad girl,” she teases in a fake voice, half joking, half because she knows she has been, and that she gets on Lou’s nerves sometimes.

Solid fingers squeeze the flesh of her hips.

“Mkay, we’re not doing _that_.” Lou looks at her, lightning striking in those blue pearls that maybe are the reflections of the lamp or maybe it’s just her eyes saying what her voice does not.

“What?” Debbie’s always been good at playing dumb. “I have,” she emphasizes with a kiss at the corner of Lou’s lips. “Stealing things...” She lists, planting another kiss— opposite side this time. “Getting myself thrown in jail...” Soft breath against jaw, “putting Claude Becker’s name on that invitation list.” She presses, realizing a second too late that she’s gone too far.

Those same fingers that were holding her close still for half a second, then push her away as if she were burning metal. Lou’s face is tight when she locks her gaze with hers, looks as though she had slapped her.

“If this is some kind of fucked up late punishment fantasy of yours for that Claude Becker thing, I swear to God, Deb, I’m walking out on you for good.” Lou snaps, voice unwavering.

The density of the tension seems to freeze her words into a bubble between them, only to shatter at Debbie’s chest full force, stealing the air out of her lungs when she realizes Lou’s warning reveals much more perceptiveness than Debbie anticipated, making her wonder if maybe Lou’s right, if maybe she suspected, even before her, that she’s making this because deep somewhere, part of her still finds it unbearable for Lou to be with her after what she’s done. As if somehow she were unforgivable.

She’d never admit to this, not even to herself, but Lou’s been so accepting when she didn’t deserve it, so compliant despite everything, that at first it had made appreciation turn into rage against Lou’s blind loyalty and pure love for her. If anything, it had reminded her of how undeserving she was, of how fucking bad she needed Lou to retaliate for how much she’s hurt her— to back her up against a wall, scream at her for disappearing for five years, for Claude, for leaving.

She had wanted Lou to say she hated her, so she wouldn’t be alone in hating herself.

But of course, Lou did not. She would never hate her, not even after all the pain she’s inflicted on her— and that physically hurt, like a clog in her coronary artery making it hard for her heart to pump blood.

It took her some time to get used to the fact that Lou forgave her. She still doesn’t know why, and she firmly believes that Lou doesn’t either. The feelings she has for her might play a big role in her decisions, but apart from that, there’s no other reason. Lou has friends other than her, very close friends, so that wasn’t it. A partner in crime, perhaps? Emotional connection? Hell, even some cosmical red thread bonded soulmates theory would’ve explained it, but they didn’t believe in that, and if Lou was willing to just accept the fact that that’s the way their relationship goes without questioning the whys, Debbie saw that she could learn to do the same. With Lou’s soft words reassuring her that everything was fine, there were no hard feelings, she slowly began taking what’s being offered without punishing herself for it.

She realizes at the moment with embarrassing pride that she’s way past that now, and that she’s stopped beating herself up over past things thanks to Lou’s selfless openness.

“That’s got nothing to do with this,” she says at last, and smiles because it’s the most honest she’s been in a long time.

Lou studies her intently. Debbie imagines the intricate gears of her mind ticking with infinite precision, surely trying to decipher whether that’s true or not, staring at her the way she stares at her targets— predator-like, taking in what hides behind her eyes, peripheral vision noting whether her breathing is superficial or deep to know if she’s nervous or calm, whether her fingers fidget or play with the belt on her hands as a sign of uneasiness. It doesn’t take her long to make up her mind, knowing her the way she does. _Like I said, open book_. She seems satisfied with what she sees, and her form relaxes again.

“I see.” To Debbie’s surprise, soft pink makes its way into Lou’s cheeks.

“Very well then,” Debbie challenges, moving to place the belt on the bed. She takes off her dressing gown with a swift movement, enjoying the change of temperature against her warm nakedness and the sound that Lou’s throat makes when she swallows hard. Wanting to see more of that blush, she turns to her and says, “I want you to spank me with your belt, then fuck me senseless with your cock.”

Before she has a chance to turn completely and bend over the bed, Lou’s on her from behind, left hand grabbing her hip, right hand threaded through her hair, mouth against hers exactly the way she likes it— tongue insisting--  _demanding_ entrance, teeth nibbling her bottom lip just hard enough for it to hurt a little. She gets nearly drunk off the contrast between hardness and softness, dizzy at the taste of mint, faint trace of tobacco and something that’s just so uniquely Lou.

Debbie is about to protest when Lou breaks the kiss, but before she can muster a complaint, she tightens the grip on her hair, lips already against her neck, sucking harder than she probably should at her pulse point, making sure she leaves a mark there that won’t disappear for days, then smoothing the soreness with the velvet of her tongue, licking its way up the cartilage of her ear, teasing it with her teeth.

When she speaks, Lou’s hoarse voice is maddening hot, barely a whisper that tickles both her ear and her cunt. “We need to settle a few ground rules before.”

Somehow, between the tightening of her thighs pressing shamelessly against each other and Lou’s body flushed behind her, distracting her more than she’d like to admit, Debbie manages to find her voice. “O-okay. Yes.” It’s desperate, and under different circumstances, Debbie would’ve felt embarrassed, but not now. Not when she’s enjoying herself this much.

As if on cue, Lou’s left hand travels across the expanse of skin of Debbie’s abdomen, muscles underneath quivering at the touch, to finally settle on her right breast, pinching her nipple just so. She whimpers hopelessly at the persistent fingers rolling the pink-colored tip to make it stand to attention.

“Safeword,” Lou demands into her shoulder.

With a big intake of breath, Debbie forces oxygen into her brain to think of something.

“Diamonds,” she blurts, syllables mushed together as if they couldn’t escape fast enough.

Lou chuckles at that. “Of course.” The sound makes heat radiate from Debbie’s center, liquifying her legs. “Bend over.” This time, voice is low and hard, which makes it even more impossibly hot for Debbie.

Obediently, she does as instructed, bending over the mattress to expose her bare ass. Expectation emanates from her like sun rays, progressing excitement simmering in her lower belly, heat concentrating in the deepest parts of her core. All her senses seem to be heightened in the quiet of the night. The only sound cutting the silence comes from the metallic clinking of the buckle when Lou grabs the belt, then the padded thump of her feet when she takes a step back. Everything stills. A pause. Agonizing anticipation stirs her blood and buzz in her hears, and then she hears a soft whoosh in the air and then--

“ _Fuck!_ ”

The pang of pain on her left cheek makes her skin grow hot, thighs go pleasantly stiff, making her pussy twitch. She doesn’t get much time to recover before another strike lands on the right cheek, just as hard, fire spreading where it hit, its flames expanding around the area. She squirms and buries her head onto the mattress to stop from crying out. There’s another one after that, and another one until Debbie stops counting, too lost on the exquisite sensations her body and mind are experiencing. It doesn’t sting anymore, the feeling more that of a bruise, and she knows she’ll be sore for days. _Good._

“Do you like that?” Lou groans, stopping to caress the tender skin where bright pink begins to blossom into red, small violet spheres here and there. The contrast of her strokes when she scratches her lightly with her nails makes Debbie whimper incoherently, and Lou stops, pleased with herself. “Do you want more?”

At loss of words, Debbie nods into the comforter, hopes Lou sees her.

She does.

Debbie flinches involuntarily, fisting the sheets and suffocating a whimper with her lower lip between her teeth. A beat later, the sound of a strike echoes against the walls and vibrates inside her ribcage. She’s not sure if she actually moans out loud or just inside her head. Another blow, precisely on the curve where thigh meets ass, then another one, matching crimson marks on both sides, Lou’s aim on point. Her toes curl in pleasure and she writhes against the bed, clit throbbing, indifferent to the soreness of her ass.

“Fuck, baby, I need you inside me,” her plead a strangled cry.

The scent of sweat and sex and leather is thick and heavy in the air as she hears Lou walk to the chest of drawers where they keep their toys. She gasps, legs like jelly nearly collapsing when a moment later she feels Lou run two fingers over her wet slit, enough to tease but not enough to satisfy her, avoiding the point where she wants the most. She’s already so close, her orgasm sizzling and sparkling deep inside her. Lou knows this, and it makes Debbie want to cry when her hand leaves her, the ghost of her fingertips still lingering everywhere she touched.

Strong arms wrap around her frame, Lou’s legs pulling her thighs apart, and Debbie can feel her— the heaviness of her cock pressed against her, Lou’s open-mouthed kisses on her neck, a nip, two. Debbie grinds impatiently against her, urging her to please do something.

The unexpected smack of Lou’s hand against her bottom brings tears to her eyes, and she pants loudly.

“Tell me what you want,” her voice is deep below her ear, so throaty that it makes Debbie’s groin stir and ache, but even before she answers, Lou’s already positioning the head of her cock against her entrance.

“You, Lou, I want _you_.”

And she doesn’t know if there’s a hidden meaning behind her desperate words, some kind of implicit reassurance and she doesn’t care because Lou is moaning her approval and she’s sinking into her pouring cunt, hard and fast and Debbie takes her in again, and again, and again.

“Damn right, baby, I love it when you say my name.”

Every stroke gets her closer to the edge, Lou’s grip on her hips so tight Debbie knows she’ll bruise there as well. And she likes it-- _loves_ it. She gives in, gives in to the feeling of the buttery leather of the straps on Lou’s hips slamming against raw flesh as she drives deep into her, loses herself in Lou’s labored breaths and grunts and moans on her ear, actual fireworks appearing behind tightly closed eyelids. She’s so wet that it’s almost embarrassing, come dripping down the inside of her thighs, coating Lou’s cock all the way to the base.

“I’m so close, I’m ssso close.” She barely recognizes her voice, thick and needy.

Without ever stopping her motions, Lou shifts to place a hand at her clit, fingers rubbing the tender, straining bundle of nerves. Electric bolts of pleasure shoot through her brain and nerves and whole body. Bucking, gasping, squirming and tensing impossibly, she shatters to pieces, convulsing around the dildo, aftershocks making her shudder, lungs fighting for air.

“Deb,” she says her name in a voice sultry and husky like raw silk. “Good girl,” and it’s not a joke this time.

**Author's Note:**

> This pairing, y’all. I’m so sorry for bringing up Claude Becker but in my head, Debbie still thinks she deserves some kind of *punishment* for what she’s done to Lou. Also, I really didn’t mean for it to turn into... well, this. But it’s what my fingers wanted apparently. Tell me what you think.
> 
> Also, let’s settle this: They’re both tops but the only person Lou bottoms for is Debbie and vice-versa, which kinda makes them switches (only for each other). Lou bottoms more often because she’s WHIPPED and she’s a service top. Debbie tops from the bottom and is a power top. I rest my case because that’s the tea. Fight me.


End file.
